


The Dragons and The Schoolteacher

by jooliewrites



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-24 00:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6134797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jooliewrites/pseuds/jooliewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like all good feuds, no one really knows how the war with the dragons started.</p>
<p>The villagers say the dragons struck first. Spreading fire through the fields and plucking the best livestock up right out of their pens.</p>
<p>Of course the dragons disagree. They claim the villagers, with their poisoned tipped arrows and catapults hurling stones and bombs, launched the first strike.</p>
<p>For his part, Oliver doesn’t much care who started the feud in their little valley. All he knows is that he wants no quarter of it. </p>
<p>+</p>
<p>A Coliver Dragon!AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dragons and The Schoolteacher

**Author's Note:**

> [originally posted](http://ramblesandreblogs.tumblr.com/post/135467031793/because-i-like-dragon-aus-like-all-good-feuds)

Like all good feuds, no one really knows how the war with the dragons started.

The villagers say the dragons struck first. Spreading fire through the fields and plucking the best livestock up right out of their pens.

Of course the dragons disagree. They claim the villagers, with their poisoned tipped arrows and catapults hurling stones and bombs, launched the first strike.

For his part, Oliver doesn’t much care who started the feud in their little valley. All he knows is that he wants no quarter of it. He may be a son of the Dragon Lord but Oliver wants nothing to do with the fighting. He doesn’t want to pillage and terrorize. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone.

When he’s obligated to join the others for raiding parties, Oliver’s quick to pull back. He circles the treetops until he’s sure his family and the others are distracted then lands softly in one of the fields.

Quickly abandoning his wings and scales, Oliver shifts form to adopt the look of a common man. He hurries into the village and starts helping where he can, pulling villagers to safety and covering them as they run to shelter.

On one such raid, Oliver’s helping school children flee from their burning school when a small hand on his stays him. Tears pool in a girl’s deep green eyes and soot stains her cheeks. “Please,” she begs. “Mr. Connor’s stuck.”

“Where?” Oliver’s stomach drops when she points back to the school.

Without a thought of how feeble, and flammable, he his in his human visage, Oliver runs into the school. He dodges falling beams and flames skirting around as he searches for the missing school teacher. Finding the man, Oliver picks Connor up like a new bride and sprints from the building.

Hours later, when Connor wakes in the makeshift hospital, Oliver is by his side. The teacher tries to smirk but the smile comes out much too genuine. He reaches a bandaged covered hand up to squeeze Oliver’s fingers once. “My guardian.”

After that, Oliver starts sneaking into the village as much as he can. At first, he tells himself he’s just checking on how the town, and Connor, are recovering. But, as the weeks turn into months, Oliver knows the real reason for his secret pilgrimages has little to do with the town and a lot to do with Connor.

That winter, the dragon and the school teacher go on quiet walks and share loud, but friendly, arguments. There are simple dinners with Connor’s family and elaborate breakfasts in Connor’s small kitchen.

Around the solstice, Oliver realizes that he only thing he wants to steal are kisses from Connor’s lips and the only fires he wishes to set that winter are those in Connor’s fireplace.

“I love you,” Oliver whispers into Connor’s hair as he holds the sleeping teacher close. Connor turns in Oliver’s hold and burrows in close. “I love you too, Oliver,” the teacher breathes out before slipping back to sleep.

As winter begins to give way to spring, the villagers prepare for the raiding to begin anew. The dragons are coming out of hibernation and with be hungry. Oliver plans to warn the village somehow when he learns the days the dragons plant to raid. He needs to make sure these innocent people are prepared for the horrors to come.

One morning, as Oliver walks through town to meet Connor at the school, the world goes dark. Heart in his throat, Oliver looks above to see dragons filling the skies. He hadn’t known they were planning an attack for today. They hadn’t told him.

In panic, he runs to school and sees Connor’s brown cap of hair in the yard. The dragons circle overhead as Connor directs the children to safety. Oliver watches his father flying above and knows what’s going to happen. His father’s preparing to strike and Connor’s going to be in his path.

At the edge of the yard, Oliver pulls up short. From across the way he catches Connor’s eye and, for the briefest of moments, the world pauses. Oliver shouts “I love you!” one last time but the words are lost on the wind. Even so, Oliver sees Connor’s lips move and knows the teacher returned the sentiment with “I love you, too.” Oliver tries to memorize the moment, burn this last memory into his mind, for Oliver wants to remember everything about the last moment Connor loved him.

With a final glance, Oliver looks to the heavens and shifts. His legs and body lengthen and grow. His wings unfold from his back and beat heavy as he takes to the skies.

Oliver’s father grins deliciously as he watches his son take flight. He’d been aware of the boy’s wanderings this winter but had always known his boy, his blood, would choose well in the end.

But Oliver’s father is wrong. Oliver doesn’t join the raiding party; he fights them.He swipes at friends and family, cousins and brothers. Oliver fights without a care or concern for himself.

This town, these people, they have done nothing. The village hasn’t raised an arrow or ax to the dragons in generations. They live in terror for no reason and Oliver isn’t letting another one of them be harmed.

One returned blow strikes Oliver’s wing hard, tearing at the ligaments, and then Oliver’s falling. He falls heavy and fast. He tries to aim for a field as he falls so there’s less chance of anyone else getting hurt.

Landing heavy on the ground, Oliver lets out a mighty and pained roar. His wing is bent and broken beneath him and Oliver can’t fight anymore. He can’t protect them. He can’t protect Connor!

For a moment, all is still and the beating of the dragons’ wings is only noise in the silence. Then, instead of a further attack, Oliver’s mother descends.

She surveys her son, lying prostrate on the ground, and tilts her head to the side. “You would give your life for these pathetic humans?” The question is asked with disbelief rather than the disgust Oliver had expected.

“Yes,” Oliver manages to croak out.

She furrows her brow. “Why?”

“I love him, mother,” is all Oliver offers up by way of explanation. “I love him. I won’t see him or his harmed.”

His mother simply blinks at him questioningly before turning away and taking for the skies. The rest of the raiding party follows with Oliver’s father lingering behind. He gives one final glance to his only son before taking off for the mountain top.

Then, Oliver is alone. Alone with villagers gathering around. He can’t shift forms like this, wounded and tired, so he, a dragon prince, is left at the mercy of the villagers he’s been lying to for months.

They are gathering around in droves but none come close. They know that, even wounded, Oliver can still lash out and hurt them, what they don’t know for sure is if he will.

Oliver wants to turn his head and search the faces of those gathered, wants to see one beloved face once more before they do their worst, but Oliver’s too afraid of what he knows he won’t see. Oliver’s lied to him all these month. Connor won’t be there with rest.

Then, a lone figure steps forward. From the corner of his eye, Oliver sees that the man approaching is tall and unafraid and familiar.Connor steps close and Oliver expects disgust. He expects accusations and vile hatred. Oliver expects Connor to berate him. Instead, Connor lifts a small hand to Oliver’s chest.

“My guardian,” he breathes with awe. “My Oliver.”

The treaty with the dragons takes almost as long to negotiate as it does for Oliver to heal but, by the next summer, a peace has come to the valley. And Connor holds tight on to Oliver’s scales when they take to the sky.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://ramblesandreblogs.tumblr.com)


End file.
